


Marionette's Wish

by Arivania Moons (DeadricDaughter19)



Series: Dragon Quest IX Requests [1]
Category: Dragon Quest IX, Dragon Quest Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Male-Female Friendship, One Shot, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 06:44:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20671025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadricDaughter19/pseuds/Arivania%20Moons
Summary: She hadn't asked to be given life, hadn't asked to be in the situation she was in now. Looking at the grave, she realized she didn't want to be a doll again.





	Marionette's Wish

**Author's Note:**

> It took forever, but here it is! The first of the Dragon Quest IX request fanfics from Tumblr! This one is for keykidpilipili! Hope y'all enjoy!

She hadn't asked to be given life, hadn't asked to be in the situation she was in now. Looking at the grave before her, she suddenly felt a bitterness so strong that it actually made her stumble in surprise. She hadn't thought about it before, but now that she _was_, she found herself resenting her One True Friend. Resenting Marion Bloome. Reflecting on it more, how could she _not_? She hadn't understood it back then, but now that she did... It filled her with anger to think about it.

“It's not _fair_,” Marion had said pitifully, looking at her with those eyes that had been bright with tears. “Why? Why _now_, when-?” A coughing fit had cut the dying girl off as she tried to hold back tears.

She had been so confused then, having just woken up. All she knew was that Marion was her best, her _only_ , friend, and she was supposed to play with her. She remembered the man who created her when she saw him, but only once she saw him. He was nice, but he wasn't Marion. She had been so focused on _Marion_ that she hadn't realized what was happening around her fully. Marion had spoken of Angels 'coming to take her away' and had asked her to take the girl's place. To live the life Marion hadn't been able to and make lots of friends.

She had _tried_ , oh how she had _tried_. It had seemed fairly easy at first, all she had to do to make a friend was give them something. She hadn't realized they weren't really her friends, all the people that were around her whom she gave gifts to, who gave her gifts in return. She didn't realize they just wanted what she could give. All she had wanted was to do everything right, all that had been asked of her, so Marion would come back to her.

She had been so naïve, and she probably still was. She knew so little about the world she had suddenly become apart of, that she wouldn't be allowed to learn more about. She wished she could cry, that her frustration and sorrow at her new life being taken from her could be expressed properly. Marion was right, it _wasn't_ fair. None of it was fair. She didn't _want_ to be a doll again, didn't _want_ to be still again. She wanted to _live_ and _learn_ and be _someone_.

She hadn't even properly apologized to the Angel that had asked to borrow the boat, despite how _nice_ he had been to her. She remembered how polite he had been to her and how she had freaked out on him when she got a good look at him. It hadn't been the bright, mint-green hair or the dark orange eyes that had tipped her off to what he was, it had been the faint aura that clung to his form – dark orange and mint-green, as seemed to be his colors. He even wore the same coloring in his clothes, the dark orange over the mint-green coloring. Bright against dark, making an oddly pleasing contrast that made it fairly easy to look at him when it otherwise wouldn't have been a good combination to look at.

She had known that aura denoted him as an Angel, though she didn't know how she knew that. It just made _sense_ to her, despite the fact it didn't make sense at all when she thought about it. She had been rude to him either way and while she had given him her boat in the end, it still felt wrong to leave without properly apologizing or saying good-bye. Especially when he'd come after her when those men took her. She hadn't understood until she returned to Bloomingdale why that was a big deal. Why hadn't she apologized and thanked him back in the cave?

Marion. Her One True Friend had appeared, transparent and glowing with a blue aura, and talked to her. Told her they could never play again, that she, Marion, was sorry, and that she had to become a doll again. Her hands balled into fists as she thought about that, how Marion had accidentally given her life and was now taking it back. How was _that_ fair? She could live without being Marion! Why couldn't she just keep this life? More than anything, she wanted to _live_, no matter how selfish of her it was to desire so. Had Marion not desired life?

She trembled with her frustration, rage, and sorrow. She glared at the grave, wishing she knew what tears felt like. Wishing she was _real_. She didn't want to be a motionless doll again! She was Marionette, she wasn't just a doll!

“Marionette?”

She whirled around, surprised at the sudden voice. She laid eyes on him, on the Angel. He stood in the doorway between her – Marion's – bedroom and the backyard, glancing around uncertainly. He focused on her after a moment, concern in his eyes. As she looked at him, she realized his eyes weren't simply a dark orange. As she watched, she could just see the rapid shift from a bright, pale orange to a dark, dull orange coloring and many other shades of orange between. His skin, too, did not remain a solid color or shade, shifting rapidly from a burnt, gold-brown amber coloring to a darker, richer cattail brown coloring and back again. Another sign of his supernatural origins, no doubt.

The Angel had come alone to see her, his strange friend that scared others not anywhere she could see. She was relieved to some degree, as the pitch black, bulky armor had certainly been imposing to look at. She felt a bit bad about that, given the armored man was quite friendly and gentle. Shaking herself lightly, she focused back on the Angel.

“Is there something you need, Angel?” she asked him lightly, bowing her head. Why _was_ he here? A sudden fear gripped her – what if he was here to punish her?

“I guess I came to say good-bye,” he said after a moment, slowly moving towards her. “Though, I do not particularly see anything 'good' about it this time. It is a strange saying, 'good-bye'. I was told that it was simply a phrase... but words often have more power than one is willing to give credit, simply because that seems to be how we, as beings, work.”

She was surprised by his words, particularly his use of 'we'. He seemed to include her in that, which she didn't understand. She was no 'being', she was sure, whatever that word happened to mean. She turned back to the grave, quiet. He was soon standing next to her, making her aware of how different they were in height. He towered over everyone in town and yet he did not seem to draw too much extra attention. Perhaps Angels just very skilled in that way, which would make sense if no one could see their shifting colors or their aura. Even his hair shades shifted rapidly between greens, though it stayed pale.

The silence that stretched between them was broken by the Angel. “My name is Saiph,” he glanced down at her. “I did not get a chance to introduce myself before, for which I apologize, Lady Marionette.”

“Say-f,” she pronounced slowly, blinking as she spoke the name of an Angel. It felt strangely..._humbling_ to say the name of the Angel that had been so gracious to her. Was it just him? Or would it be like that if she learned more Angel names? “I... You've nothing to apologize for, Angel Saiph. It's me who needs to apologize to you, for how...shamefully I have acted towards you.” She wished she could sound as formal and polite as he did.

“You were confused, and scared,” he replied, shrugging as if it were no big deal. “I cannot exactly expect one feeling such a way to act entirely rationally. And even then, to you it was a very rational response, so I cannot judge you for that.” He gave her a smile that was gentle, one she had only witnessed from the man who had created her.

She wasn't sure why, but she felt a sudden urge to tell him about her sudden resentment towards Marion. To tell him about her selfish desire, how she wanted to live and not be a doll. How she wanted to experience the world and learn how to truly live, as her own person. As Marionette. She couldn't explain it, but there was just something about being in his presence without any distractions of any kind. Something that made her want to pour out her non-existent heart.

“Are Angels ever selfish?” She regrets the question the moment it's spoken, not even sure where it came from. She is mortified that she asked such a thing to someone so holy!

“Sometimes,” his answer takes her off guard, bringing her eyes back to him. “But then...everyone is selfish sometimes, and they have every right to be. So long as their selfishness is not harming anyone, so long as their selfishness is not the only thing dictating their actions.”

She is quiet at that, pondering his words. It made sense, somehow, in a way she couldn't quite grasp. She is not given much time to mull his words over before he speaks again.

“This place hits quite...” he pauses, as if uncertain of how to word it, “close to home, I believe would be the way to put it. The greed here..._speaks_ to me, if you will. Every Celestrian – ah, _Angel_, my apologies. I forget we have different words for my kind sometimes, Lady Marionette – has a defining selfishness and a defining selflessness. A Mortal Sin and a Divine Virtue, we call them. My own Mortal Sin, my great selfishness, is that I am greedy. Perhaps more so than the Mortals – the people – around us. You may not have noticed simply because I have had a very long time to temper my greed with my patience, my Divine Virtue. Patience itself is not inherently selfless, but it is when paired with such a thing as greed, as it prevents me from taking what I please with no care for others. I had to learn this temperance, however. It is not something that is innate. Everyone is born with something selfish about them they must eventually learn to conquer, though that does not mean it is inherently wrong to indulge in it every once in a while.”

Marionette has not response to his words, which make her blink as she tries to comprehend what he is telling her. All that she can truly grasp from it is that it is okay that she feels whatever selfish feeling she is experiencing. That it _might_ be okay to act on it. So, she finally opens her mouth, feeling weight already being lifted from her shoulders.

“It's not _fair_,” she sounds just like Marion, she's sure. Because Marion had been _right_, it's _not_ fair. “It's not fair that I have to give up this life, just because Marion told me to. It's not fair that she got to experience her own life and I was only allowed to catch a glimpse of what life _is_ at all. That I had to spend _my_ life pretending I was _her_.”

She sounds pitiful and she hates it, but he listens. Saiph listens as she goes on and on, talking about the unfairness of it all. Of having tried _so hard_ only for it to turn out to not be _enough_ . Marion had been her One True Friend, and yet had cursed her. At some point, it boils over and Marionette cries out, “I wish I had _never_ been given life to begin with!”

“If that were true,” Saiph said after a moment of silence, allowing Marionette to collect herself. “Then I imagine it would have already come true and no one would remember you had ever been in Lady Marion's place. Yet you are still here, which means there is something else you desire. The Fygg may not be visible, but it is still here with us. It's abilities are still in use.”

“I don't _want_ to go back,” Marionette replied. “I want to _live_, to experience life as _myself_. I don't want to be a motionless _toy_ again. I want... I want...” She trailed off, a thought coming to her. “I want to go on a journey, a long one. I want to see all this world is, to experience all the life I possibly can.” Her eyes, which had been glaring at the grave once more, focused on the dark-skinned, mint-haired, orange-eyed Angel once more. A determination filled her. “I want to go with you, on whatever journey you're on now. You talk about the Fygg as if you're familiar with the strange fruit. There are more?”

“Quite,” Saiph responded, a slight smile tugging his lips. “There are seven in all, of which I have already collected three. Yours _would_ have been the fourth, but... Well, I was never told that _all_ the Fyggs are required for their purpose or that they must be collected in their Fygg form.”

Marionette feels as if her world suddenly went still as she stared at the Angel before her. It took her several moments to register his words and several more to register the hand that was before her. He was smiling that gentle smile at her again, an invitation in his eyes. She felt strange suddenly, a sensation as if she were to start crying. He heard her wish, spoken aloud, and was offering to _grant _it. He did not reprimand her, did not tell her to stop being selfish, or any other such thing. She barely realized she was smiling as she took his hand.

“Really?” she asked, voice barely discernible.

“Really,” he chuckled. “Welcome to my rag-tag party, Lady Marionette.”


End file.
